


Among The Shadows, I Stand

by caesar



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dead Carla Yeager, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Did I Mention Angst?, Dreams and Nightmares, Eventual Happy Ending, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Good Parent Grisha Yeager, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Horror, Levi sees dead people, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mikasa Ackerman & Levi Are Related, Murder, Romance, Self-Harm, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 11:47:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21373645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caesar/pseuds/caesar
Summary: In his dreams, Levi sees those who are dead but not passed on. Levi helps them move on, having taken the role of a courier of souls. Jaded by this nightly task, he has fallen into a monotonous routine, until one night he sees Carla Jaeger after her brutal murder. Implored by her to return to his hometown of Shigansina, he does so and reconnects with his cousin, Mikasa, as well as Eren Jaeger. As Levi helps Eren grieve, the two fall in love along the way. Unbeknownst to Eren, Levi secretly struggles with Carla's inability to pass on until he begins to lose his grip on his sanity, unable to distinguish his dreams from reality.
Relationships: Levi/Eren Yeager
Kudos: 7





	Among The Shadows, I Stand

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hello! I wanted to preface this story with a final warning for you all: **this will be dark.** This will deal with matters such as death, suicide, violence, the degradation of one's mental state, and lots of blood. If any of this is unsettling, I urge you to not read.
> 
> This is heavily inspired by a conglomeration of works, but most prominently, the Haunting of Hill House series. Most of this is written to that soundtrack, so if you need anything to listen to while reading, I _highly_ suggest that.
> 
> Important thing to note: Levi can wake himself up from his dreams by different means. It can be as simple as falling off a chair, a la Inception, or by means of self-harm. Consider these dreams when he sees the dead as lucid dreams of sorts. I wanted to clarify this _explicitly_ in case the many tags don't make the nature of this fic apparent enough. It won't _all_ be heavy, but this is certainly not my usual light, fluff writing.
> 
> That being said, if you are sticking around: I'm very excited to be writing Ereri again, as it is one of my favorite ships, and I hope you enjoy!

_“It’s your time,” he told her plainly. His usual cold demeanor was absent, in favor of a calm presence._

_The woman looked at him with round eyes, amber orbs glittering in the sunset as tears threatened to spill. His expression remained neutral as he gave a small nod._

_“Are you afraid?” he asked._

_“Yes,” she whispered, her bottom lip trembling. “Will you go with me?”_

_He shook his head, lips pursed in a small frown. “I can’t. Where you’re heading is not meant for me.” Not yet, anyway._

_She glanced at the trail that lead into the distance, and then back to him again anxiously. She seemed as if debating to go at all. He sighed, and then reached out to grab her hand._

_He gave a gentle squeeze. “Night is coming—you should go, before it gets dark.”_

_She tightened her hold on his hand, inhaling deeply. She nodded once before letting go, and took that first step on the path. And then another._

_He turned away to head back. After a moment, he looked back over his shoulder._

_She was gone._

* * *

Levi wakes up.

The clock on his end table reads 4:49 a.m.

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, before climbing out of bed. He opened the window, the sounds of the streets below filling the room. Mitras never sleeps, and Levi with it. His apartment is high enough that it’s not too clear—three floors up—but not far enough that it’s inconvenient to go up and down every day. He welcomes the ambient noise as he shuffles to his bathroom, washing his face and hands, counting the number of times he runs his hands over the other. Moving back to his room, he sits at the desk near the window. Through the skyscrapers and buildings, he can see the sky is still a rich shade of blue, not yet broken by the sun bleeding into it with strokes of red and pink.

He opens his laptop, finding a few e-mails left from the previous night regarding translations needed to be sent out by noon.

Easy work by comparison to his thankless tasks given to him at night.

Another day.

* * *

Eren mourns.

It’s been a month and a half since his mother was gruesomely murdered by his father’s deranged ex-wife.

His adopted sister and half-brother have taken it better than he has—outwardly, anyway. Zeke has always been stubborn, masking his emotions so he can keep them held closely to the chest. Mikasa is a perpetual pillar of strength in their family, and while she does feel very deeply, she has been a rock for Eren while he struggles with his grief.

“Eren.”

Mikasa’s voice is quiet, somewhere beside him. Eren stares at his glass of water, fixated on the condensation on the outside of the glass as the ice slowly melts inside. A drop of water trails to the bottom, joining the water gathered at the base of the glass.

“_Eren_.”

“Huh?” he turns his head to the side sharply, met with Mikasa frowning at him, holding a bowl of chicken and yellow rice. Despite her frown, he can see the worry in her gray eyes as she looks at him silently.

She relents, her expression softening. “You need to eat,” she says softly, setting the bowl on the table in front of him, utensil already in the rice. The smell wafts under his nose, enticing. His stomach growls in agreeable with her words.

He makes no move toward it, hands folded in his lap.

“_Eat_,” Mikasa tells him, more firmly this time.

His throat feels like sandpaper when he speaks, giving a small nod. “Okay.”

* * *

_There was blood everywhere._

_“Oh no,” he muttered to himself. These were some of the worst ones to do. He whirled around in a desperate search to see who was here, and he stopped short when he saw her. His stomach plummeted like a stone, his heart twisted in his chest._

_Big, golden eyes stared back at him, brown hair in disarray, her yellow dress tattered and bloody. Glass was scattered on the floor around her, around him, under his shoes and some in her arms._

_“Carla!” He called without thinking. She reached out toward him, wincing with pain as she did so. He ran toward her, but he never got closer, perpetually running._

_Her mouth opened, but no sound came out._

_All he saw was red._

_“I’m coming—I’m here to help!” he shouted, unsure if she heard him. Her face twisted in agony. She fell to the floor; everything was red._

_He finally heard her, but all he heard was screams._

_She was out of reach._

_This was too much, everything hurt, blood was everywhere, there’s just too much—_

_He grabbed a shard of glass on the floor, ignoring how it cut his hand. He braced himself as he ran it quickly down his arm. For a moment, it burned, and then it didn’t._

* * *

Levi jolts awake, his sheets sticking to him as his body is covered in a sheen of cold sweat. His bangs are plastered to his forehead. Goosebumps are all over his skin as he glances at the clock.

2:23 a.m.

He swallows, but his mouth is dry.

He reaches for his phone on the table by the clock, scrolling to a specific contact. He stares at it for a moment, wondering if he should call right now—it’s been over four years since they properly talked. They’d share an occasional _Happy Birthday_ or _Merry Christmas_ text message, but there hasn’t been a formal exchange since Levi moved to Mitras. There was work in the city, and the never-ending noise helps him cope with the early morning hours when the ghosts in his dreams won’t let him rest.

_She’s family,_ he tells himself. _I can’t put this off_.

He takes a deep breath before hitting the call button.

It rings five times before someone answers, a second of hesitation, and then a clear, but wary, “Levi?”

“Yeah,” he affirms. “Hey, Mikasa, listen—I know it’s early, I’m sorry—“

“What’s wrong?” Mikasa asks him, direct as always. She sounds more alert now that she knows this call isn’t accidental. “What happened?”

He takes another deep breath before he says, “I dreamt of Carla.” When Mikasa doesn’t say anything, he continues. “She’s…she’s stuck, but I don’t know how to help her.”

He’s met with silence.

His skin crawls, so he slides off of his bed to open the window. The sounds of the street ease the edges of his frayed nerves.

“What do I do?” Mikasa’s voice is small, reminding Levi of when they were young.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Fuck, I didn’t think this through.”

There’s another pause, shorter this time.

“Well…if you think of anything I can do to help you—to help _her_—will you tell me?”

Levi nods even though she can’t see. “Of course.”

“Thank you. It—“ Mikasa cuts herself off, before saying tiredly, “Good night, Levi.”

“Good night.”

Unwilling to go back to sleep, he cleans his apartment until the floors shine and his joints ache.

* * *

Levi sits at the bar the next evening, waiting impatiently for his friends to arrive.

His steely eyes scan the room, wondering briefly how many of these people have lost relatives recently. He wonders how many he’s helped those same relatives pass over.

His mind trails to the woman from the other night. Wide-eyed, filled with fear.

Now at peace.

Carla flashes before his eyes.

_Everything is red_.

He downs his drink, the burn of whiskey grounding him as it goes down his throat. He’s awake. There’s no point in thinking of the dead when he’s awake—they come to him enough as it is when he’s asleep.

Erwin and Hange arrive, ordering a round of drinks. Levi accepts, welcoming the haze that liquor puts him into. When he drinks, sometimes it keeps the dead away more—sometimes it makes it easier for them to find him. Whiskey tends to keep them away.

He hopes they stay away for the night so he can fucking _sleep_.

“Don’t be so distracted, short stuff!” Hange exclaims, clapping a hand on Levi’s shoulder. They don’t move away when Levi shrugs them off, shifting from the seat to stand. “Let loose for once. God knows you need to,” they remark, sipping on their cocktail as they eye him over the rim.

Levi scoffs, but doesn’t comment. He knows that they’re right.

“We miss having you in the office today,” Erwin decides to change the conversation’s direction. “Things are certainly a little more hectic without you to keep all the others in line.”

“You mean without me to _babysit_,” Levi corrects him. “Besides, you know I prefer to split my time between the office and at home.”

“I know, I know,” Erwin puts up a hand in mock surrender. His sharp eyes are trained on Levi, catching the way the shorter man moves his weight from one foot to the other. “We understand that it helps with things, but we can’t help but be concerned at times.”

Levi narrows his eyes at the pair, understanding dawning on him. “What is this, some kind of _intervention_?” He snarls, his gut churning uncomfortably.

Hange and Erwin share a look before turning back to Levi. Hange tries to cover their tracks, explaining, “Levi, we’re just worried that you’re not doing enough for yourself—“

“Like _what?!_”

“You shut in for half the week when you work from home,” Erwin interjects. “When you _are_ at the office, you come straight there, and then you go straight home. You don’t go out. You don’t see people except for the three days you come in. You’re sleep-deprived half the time. You’re unhappy—“

“Okay, _fuck_ this.” Levi throws back his drink before slamming the glass on the bar, nearly shattering it before he shoves his way between Erwin and Hange. He beelines for the door, ignoring Erwin’s deep voice bellowing after him.

He shoves his hands in his pockets as he steps outside, the cold night air biting once on the street.

He heads home, not wanting to see another face tonight. He watches his feet as he walks, ignoring the strangers who pass him by. He shoulder checks those that don’t move from his path.

When he arrives at his apartment, he’s met with silence. His thoughts are foggy, so he doesn’t mind.

He leaves the window open when he finally falls asleep.

* * *

_Carla returned to him._

_“Not again.” His chest tightened when he saw her. This marked night seven; a whole week with this recurring nightmare._

_Except it wasn’t a nightmare._

_“I don’t know how to help you,” he confessed to her. Carla’s eyes widened at his words, filled with dread._

_He saw it again._

_She doubled over as she shrieked. He was able to hear her this night; he wished he couldn’t. She coughed, the sound bubbling from within as blood trickled out of her mouth. Blood must have been filling her lungs from where he could see a stab wound in her chest. She fell to her knees, into a pool of red, slowly growing. His shoes made a sickening splashing sound as he took a step to her, the bleeding unending. Glass crunched under his shoes._

_This was the first time he could move toward her._

_He wanted to run, but he couldn’t. He walked._

_Within arm’s reach, he knelt, the blood still warm on the fabric of his pants where it soaked through._

_She spit up blood as she coughed._

_“Carla,” he raised his voice. “Tell me how to help you.”_

_She looked up at him, her mouth coated in crimson, her golden eyes hollow. Terror began to seep into him, and he made a move to reach for glass—_

_—wake up, need to wake up—_

—_she grabbed him, her nails dug into his forearm. He met her gaze again, his heart racing, and she spoke._

_“Come home.”_

* * *

Levi gasps.

He looks around, blinking frantically as he pieces together his surroundings.

He’s in his apartment. In bed. The sheets are kicked to the edge of the bed, the bed beneath him damp, his body slick with sweat. He scrambles to sit upright, moving to the edge by the window. He glances at the clock.

3:00 a.m.

His phone sits beside the clock.

He opens the window, welcoming the outside noise.

After a moment’s contemplation, he gathers his sheets to wash again. He showers in scalding water, scrubbing himself raw. Every time he blinks, he thinks that he sees _her_ again. He showers until the water runs cold, and he continues even then. When he gets out, his skin is pink, irritated from the harsh, sobering wash. He doesn’t care; at least he feels _clean_.

When the walls don’t seem to be closing in on him, he grabs his phone and moves to stand by the window.

He makes the call.

Four rings this time.

“Hey,” Mikasa greets him. She sounds exhausted, but less caught off guard than their last call. “What happened?”

“I need to come back,” Levi tells her. His hand on the windowsill is trembling. “I need to go back to Shigansina.”

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want to overload too much in the beginning note, but huge shout out to the lovely SoronRocket for being my sounding board for this and giving it a read-through. You're a star! <3
> 
> Let me know your thoughts if you'd be so kind! In our next chapter, our boys finally meet! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ 
> 
> much love


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